


Bowls Have Souls

by brokenhighways



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Fluff and Crack, Inanimate Objects, M/M, POV Inanimate Object, Spells & Enchantments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-02
Updated: 2013-11-02
Packaged: 2017-12-31 07:26:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1028910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brokenhighways/pseuds/brokenhighways
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jared might be a small hollowed out object made out of not-quite-China, but let's be real here; he's no ordinary bowl. Or the one where Jensen owns a talking bowl.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bowls Have Souls

**Author's Note:**

  * For [soncnica](https://archiveofourown.org/users/soncnica/gifts), [psychmerlin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/psychmerlin/gifts), [ace_of_spades6](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ace_of_spades6/gifts).
  * Translation into Русский available: [Не в своей тарелке](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3210902) by [J_Squared (Wincent_Cester)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wincent_Cester/pseuds/J_Squared), [Wayward_jr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wayward_jr/pseuds/Wayward_jr)



> Edited on 4th Jan 2016

Jared is a bowl.  
  
No, seriously he's a bowl.  
  
From what he's gathered through observation, inanimate objects aren't meant to have thoughts or feelings but he does. And while he would never be as arrogant as to call himself special, he's tried making conversations with the spoons. Tried shooting hoops with the mugs, but there's nothing. Just silence until his owner decides that he wants to use Jared. Which is never. So Jared keeps quiet. He watches as Jensen - his owner - guzzles down a ridiculous amount of coffee every morning. He sympathises with the stale cereal in the cupboard across from his. He sits there in the stillness for another eight hours until Jensen comes up and orders some sort of meal from fast food establishments. Jared thinks that he might have enjoyed some of these foods in a past life but he doesn't remember much past being a bowl.  
  
After six months of watching Jensen follow his routine Jared finally speaks up.  
  
"You know, you should seriously eat breakfast once in a while." Jensen jumps and then drops his mug, shards scattering across the kitchen tiles. Wait. Jensen heard him. Jared says a quick prayer for the now deceased mug and turns his attention back to Jensen.  
  
"I'm going nuts," Jensen says to himself with a dry laugh. "Fucking hearing voices now. Ha. Just what I need. Perfect."  
  
"You're not hearing voices," Jared says. "I'm real." Jensen's eyes widen and he begins to look around the room frantically.  
  
“Who’s there?” he calls out, yanking a drawer open and grabbing a rolling pin. Jared quirks an eyebrow. He’s not sure how it’s possible, but he definitely feels a brow rising upwards. Perhaps he has a face on this bowl. It might explain things.  
  
“I’m down here,” Jared says. “In the cupboard under the sink.” Jensen frowns and peers down at the cupboard; it’s open a crack, not fully and Jared’s view is slightly distorted.  
  
“Why the fuck am I listening to a voice in my kitchen?" Jensen mutters while yanking it open fully.  
  
"Where the hell are you?" Jared doesn't really care for Jensen's standoffish tone but he puts it down to the shock factor. He'd be a little cranky too if his crockery struck up a conversation with him one morning.  
  
"I'm a bowl," Jared said. "You've never used me." Jensen looks right him then, and his eyes bulge. Jared feels the urge to shift nervously, but he can't because of the whole bowl thing.  
  
"Holy shit," Jensen says. "You have got to be the creepiest bowl I've ever seen." Jared can't help frowning slightly, eyes drooping as hurt fills him. He can't exactly see his own reflection but he's sure that he doesn't look that bad. He remembers having quite luscious hair in his past life, and reasonably nice eyes.  
  
"Oh my god, are you giving me a puppy dog face?" Jensen stands up, wipes his face with his hands. "I need a drink. Or three."  
  
Jared has no idea what that kind of face is so he blinks earnestly. The memory of the dead mug is still fresh in his mind. He doesn't want to die again.  
  
Again?  
  
"Hmm, so perhaps reincarnation really does exist," he ponders. Jensen makes a strangled noise and runs out of the kitchen.  
  
~  
  
Jared doesn't remember much about becoming a bowl. Given that his fellow bowls are lifeless and boring, he is more than convinced that he was human once. Sometimes when he's tired, images flash behind his eyes. There's always a tall guy. He's sitting at the table, with a bowl in front of him. There's a box on table every time, but the wording on the box is always blurry and the images stop soon after. He thinks about maybe asking Jensen for help find out what he's a special bowl, but he hasn't seen Jensen for a few days. And when Jensen does eventually re-emerge, he looks a little worse for wear.  
  
"A greasy breakfast should make you feel better," Jared says helpfully once Jensen's downed an entire glass of water. He has no idea how he remembers this, and Jensen merely groans to himself.  
  
"Don't mention food," he growls and Jared shrugs. Or well, he tries to. Mostly he sort of almost topples over. Fortunately, he doesn't shatter. He feels himself being picked up in one swift movement and comes face to face (well, bowl to face, but that's just semantics) with a pair of large green eyes.  
  
"Thanks," he says quietly. The eyes scan over him, as if they're looking for something. "What're you looking at?" The eyes blink and then suddenly, they're meters away and Jensen is glaring at him suspiciously.  
  
"Looking for the speaker and camera that are obviously attached to you somehow," he says. Jared naturally assumes that Jensen isn't fully sober yet. "Seriously, Chris, Chad? If this is some prank by either of you, it won't be a laughing matter when I catch up with you."  
  
Jared doesn't really know what to say to that. He's more focused on the name Chad. It rings a bell for some reason.  
  
"Who's Chad?" he asks.  
  
"Some dude who hangs around," Jensen replies warily. "His friend Jared used to live in this apartment and apparently he upped and left one day without telling Chad, so now Chad's convinced that if he hangs around long enough, this Jared guy will show up."  
  
Huh. It would be weird for Jared to be the same one that Jensen means, right? Yet, he's pretty sure that he was a human once. What if something happened to him and he transformed from human Jared to bowl Jared?  
  
"Why'd you ask?" Jensen says when Jared remains silent for too long.  
  
"My name is Jared," Jared says sadly.  
  
Jensen stares at him for what seems like an age.  
  
"Oh, fuck."  
  
Jensen disappears again soon after, leaving Jared to his own devices. Life as a bowl is nothing if not uneventful, so he's left with ample thinking time. He starts to remember some things. Namely this Chad guy, with his spiky blonde hair and bizarre turns of phrase. Oh and the string of ladies that Chad seems to constantly be working his way through. Truth be told, this Chad guy seems like an ass. But hearing Jensen say that Chad hasn't given up on him tells Jared that they must have been pretty good friends.  
  
~  
  
Jensen shows up with a crumpled picture that evening.  
  
"Is that me?" Jared asks. "I knew that I used to have long hair!" Jensen snorts at that, reaches into his pocket to pull out his smartphone. He snaps a picture and shows it to Jared. Jared wobbles slightly at the sight of his "hair". Seven longitudinal lines in a thick black print. It looks horrible, almost as though he has skid marks on his face.  
  
Jared is not impressed.  
  
"Did you tell Chad that you'd found me?" he asks. Jensen sighs deeply and takes a seat at his kitchen table. Jared can't really see his eyes, but he knows that sigh. He's spent enough time observing and listening to Jensen to know that he's about to make an unnecessarily snarky remark.  
  
"That's a great idea," Jensen says. "I'll just walk up to Chad and say, 'Hey, that friend that left town? He didn't actually leave. Oh no, he's morphed into a talking bowl and now lives under my kitchen sink."  
  
Well, that explains the loud gurgling sounds at night, Jared thinks.  
  
"Okay then, as my owner, it is up to you to ensure that I get back into my body!" Jared's quick to respond, because now that he knows for sure that he's human and that he had a life, he kind of wants it back.  
  
"I have better things to do."  
  
Jared gives Jensen the best pleading look that he can muster. Jensen doesn't react at first, but after at least a minute he sighs again. It's wearier than the last one but Jared still counts it as a win.  
  
"Fine, I'll help you."  
  
Jared beams.  
  
"I'm going to go and hit my head against a wall to check that I'm not imagining you giving me a huge, manic grin even though you're a bowl."  
  
~  
  
Jensen's friends file into the apartment one night to watch some movie that Jared's never heard of. In fact Jared doesn't think that he's ever watched a movie as a bowl. Unless watching Jensen stumble into the kitchen without a shirt counts. Jared might be a not-quite-China bowl without the anatomy to act on any less than platonic feelings but he has  _eyes_.  
  
"Hey, can I watch the movie too," Jared whispers when Jensen comes into the kitchen to grab more beer. It's lonely in this cupboard, and hearing the chatter and laughter just makes Jared feel sad. He wants to be human again. He wants to touch, feel, see, taste, laugh and love and all these small things that humans take for granted. He tells Jensen all of this.  
  
"You know, you're a little too self-righteous," he says. "You're a fucking bowl." Jared thinks that Jensen's going to leave him here, but he moves to another cupboard, rummages inside and pulls out a store bought bag of popcorn. Once he's done with that, Jensen stops, and looks at Jared's cupboard. Jared blinks owlishly.  
  
"What?" Jared asks when Jensen gives him a weary look. "Put the popcorn inside me and let's go! We're missing the movie!"  
  
"It's just weird," Jensen says. "I'm about to put popcorn in my talking bowl so that it can watch a movie."  
  
"Just do it already," Jared snaps. Jensen gives him a dirty look and grabs him. Jared feels a wave of nausea as Jensen puts him down onto the table.  
  
"Ow!" Jared exclaims. "Watch it!"  
  
"Oh now he wants me to slow down," Jensen mutters as he shakes the popcorn into Jared violently. The popcorn pieces graze against Jared's sides, and he can't help the giggle that slips out. It kind of tickles. Jensen jumps back when he laughs, alarm pasted all over his face.  
  
"Are you dying or crying or something?" he asks. "Because that noise that you just made was fucking terrifying."  
  
~  
  
Jensen finally takes Jared out of the kitchen and into the living room. The new surroundings seem to jolt something in Jared's mind and he starts to see more flashes of himself as a human in this apartment. Truth be told, it's a welcome distraction from the buzz that he's getting from the warmth of Jensen's hand. He spots a sombrero on the coat hook in the hallway. A brief memory of him at a Mardi Gras party flashes in his mind.  
  
"Hey, you kept my sombrero!" he says excitedly. Jensen places a hand over Jared and his world goes black. "Hey, I can't see!"  
  
"Will you shut up for a second," Jensen hisses quietly. Except he's in the living room and his friends look up to see what the commotion is. Jensen clears his throat loudly and sets Jared down on the table with much more force than is necessary.  
  
"Do you mind?" Jared really wishes that he had arms to rub at the sore spots.  
  
"Will you be quiet?!" Jensen flops down onto the floor, so that he's at eye level with the table. He's so busy glaring at Jared that he doesn't realise that his friends are no longer paying attention to the movie. They're all staring at Jensen as if he's grown an extra neck.  
  
"Who are you talking to?" Jared thinks that the voice comes from the long-haired angry looking guy but he can't be sure. Either way, no good can come out of this situation; Jared hopes that Jensen is good at thinking on the spot.  
  
"Uh, just myself." Jensen blushes, and rubs a hand at the back of his neck uncomfortably.  
  
His friends are still giving him disbelieving looks. Jared then comes to a realisation.  
  
"Hey, Jensen, you're the only one who can hear me." His outburst is a little (okay  _very_ ) mistimed and Jensen turns to glare at him without stopping to catch himself. Jared blinks at him innocently.  
  
"Are you talking to your bowl?" This time, the man with the long blond hair speaks. "I do that shit all the time man." Jared perks up at the possibility of their being other bowls like him. He could do with some friends.  
  
"No offence, Steve, but you're perpetually stoned."  
  
"Perpetually?" Jensen says to the long haired, Southern guy. "That's a big word, Chris. Where'd you hear it?"  
  
Chris reaches over and grabs a handful of popcorn from Jared and tosses it at Jensen. They rib each other gently for a while before going back to the movie, Jensen's weirdness seemingly forgotten. Jensen looks over and winks at Jared when Chris guffaws at the screen.  
  
Personally, Jared thinks that his six months of Jensen-watching were far more entertaining than this movie with the loud guy with the curly hair that Jared's sure he hated when he was human. Seth something or other.  
  
~  
  
"So, name is Jared Padalecki, and I worked in advertising. I was last seen on October 30th," Jared's not really sure where the hell his brain is located, it's not like bowls were designed to contain brain matter. So that's his excuse for making Jensen repeat all of these information he's gathered fi---  
  
"For the fifteenth time -  _yes_." Jensen doesn't bother to disguise his frustrated tone. He'd been sympathetic at first, but that had worn off after Jared's persistent questioning. Jensen's sitting at the table, with a reporter’s notebook spread out in front of him. Despite the fact that he'd initially not wanted to help, he seemed to be getting into the task. Briefly, Jared wonders why Jensen isn't at work, but his mind is soon overcome with more pressing concerns. Like the fact that he's  _cursed_.  
  
"Cursed? Cursed how?" Jensen's eyeing him warily.  
  
"October 30th!" Jared shrieks. "As in the day before Halloween.”  
  
"God, how did I end up with a crazy, insane,  _superstitious_ , talking bowl?" Jensen puts his head in his hands.  
  
"That must be it," Jared says. "Did they tell you what campaign, I was working on last? My memory is still patchy." Jensen just shakes his head and begins to ruffle through the sheath of papers that he's accumulated. After a few seconds of browsing, he looks up and holds out a piece of paper. It has a printout of a cereal box on it.  
  
It’s a box of ‘ _Unlucky Charms’_.  
  
Jared begins to feel a little faint.  
  
~  
  
The memories come rushing back to him, swarming around the rim of his bowl-shaped existence. He remembers an office, the designer suits, the discarded ties; a boss that never appreciated his ideas. Even though they were ideas that probably should never be unleashed on the unsuspecting public, they were still  _original_. Jared remembers how he'd been tasked with coming up with some special edition cereal box ideas for Halloween. It was a bit of a weird request, but companies were desperate to take advantage of any special occasions in any way possible. It didn't take him too long to come up with  _Unlucky Charms_. And maybe he should have stopped at the name branding, but he had a cool idea for the box. He'd looked up spells online and incorporated some onto the design of the box in Photoshop.  
  
Shortly after his boss approved his idea and design, Jared took the prototype home.  
  
The memories stop there, last vivid image is that of him sitting at the table in the kitchen eating a box of  _Unlucky Charms_.  
  
Crap.  
  
~  
  
When Jared comes to, he's met by large green eyes again. This time the eyes are full of concern and fear instead of disbelief. It momentarily relieves Jared's sadness. In spite of Jensen's reservations, he still cares, and the human part of Jared misses that feeling with such intensity that he'd make himself shatter if he had the guts.  
  
"Hi," he says meekly. Jensen moves back, sits back down on his chair.  
  
"Holy shit, don't scare me like that again," Jensen says. "I thought you were dead. Or well, deader." His face is pale, and Jared is so unnerved by Jensen's obvious displeasure that he immediately changes the subject, for both of their sakes. Jared's a bowl. It doesn't matter that he was human once, he's still a bowl and as soon as Jensen finds something better or that someone that he deserves, he won't have time for Jared anymore. Jensen probably doesn't even care about him at all. Who wouldn't investigate a talking bowl living under their sink?  
  
"I remember what happened," Jared says softly. "I put some sort of spell on myself."  
  
"What kind of spell?" Jensen lack of a dry, cynical comment surprises Jared and he forgets that he doesn't have shoulders anymore and shrugs. He starts to topple over slightly, but a warm hand reaches over and settles him. Jensen's hand. Jared's not sure why Jensen's touch feels like home, but it does. It's times like these when Jared wishes that he had legs. And arms. And a body.  
  
"For the  _Unlucky Charms_ \--" Jensen snorts, and Jared pauses to glare at his friend. "I went all out with the Halloween designing and put some short spells that people could try over breakfast or something."  
  
Jensen snorts again. "Because that's not creepy at all."  
  
"Halloween is all about creepy shit," Jared says. "Not accidentally turning yourself into a fucking bowl."  
  
"I know that you're pissed and all, but it's really weird to hear cuss words coming out of your mouth." Jensen grins at him openly, obviously revelling in Jared's apparent misery.  
  
It's times like this that Jared wishes that he had hands. Or really, one finger would do.  
  
~  
  
Jensen has to go to back to work, leaving Jared to spend endless days on his own in total silence. He tries to talk to the cutlery again, but all they merely rattle loudly whenever the train on the nearby line roars by. Jared pretends that it’s their way of saying hi. Jensen seems to take pity on him and sets up some kind of audio line between the kitchen and his phone. It scares the shit out of him one morning when he hears Jensen’s voice loud and clear in the room. Jared’s currently resting atop the kitchen table and he’s sure that Jensen’s out of the apartment. So he’s a little apprehensive at first.  
  
“Hey, Jared, are you there?” Jensen asks. “I’m not sure if this will work.”  
  
“Can you hear me?” Jared says.  
  
“Yup.” Jensen chuckles quietly, almost as if he’s nervous. Jared can relate. They’ve had countless number of conversations, but this one feels different somehow. This isn’t Jensen just talking to him because he has no choice. Jensen’s actively communicating with him, and it makes Jared feel kind of strange. Good strange, but strange all the same.  
  
“How’s work?” Jared says when the silence threatens to ruin the balance of their conversation.  
  
“Boring,” Jensen sighs. He’s a journalist at the local paper and apparently he only gets the shit stories. “I interviewed a firefighter today, who told me that the burning house he was at last week was hot and dangerous and seriously.”  
  
“You are the only person I know who wouldn’t be in awe of a firefighter,” Jared says.  
  
“Oh, I was in awe of him alright. That guy was built. But yeah, it’s not exactly breaking news. Local fire-fighter saves house from burning down. Says it was hot and dangerous. I might as well write ‘ _No Shit, Sherlock_ ’ as my by-line.”  
  
“Something is dead inside you,” Jared says. “D E A D.”  
  
“Keep going like that and I won’t tell you about the reversal spell I found.” The mere mention of the words  _reversal spell_  makes Jared want to jump up and down with joy. And that ends up with him toppling down so that his rim is face down on the table and his base is upturned. Everything goes back. Shit.  
  
“Jared, are you okay?” Jensen’s voice sounds muffled. Jared tries to respond, but Jensen can’t hear him. He just keeps on calling Jared’s name. Eventually silence falls once more and Jared’s forced to wait in the darkness.  
  
Jared’s still not got a good enough grasp of time, but he’s sure that it’s not been long when he hears a soft thud; almost like a door shutting, followed by heavy footsteps. He’s busy wondering if someone’s breaking in when a hand picks him up and rights him. Jared breathes a sigh of relief when he sees that it’s Jensen. A very red-faced and out of breath Jensen.  
  
“You ran all the way over here to see if I was okay?”  
  
“I…you weren’t answering and there was that  _sound_  and I thought that you’d fallen or something.”  
  
“So…you ran all the way over here to see if I was okay?”  
  
“Well, I broke a couple of speeding limits and then ran all the way up the stairs, but yeah, pretty much.” Jensen’s starting to look a little embarrassed. Unfortunately, Jared can’t seem to stop questions from flowing out of his painted-on mouth.  
  
“Why would you do that?”  
  
“I…I don’t  _know_ ,” Jensen says hesitantly. “The thought of something happening to you before I had a chance to save you was just…too much to handle."  
  
Neither of them say much after that.  
  
~  
  
Three days after that incident, Jensen comes into the kitchen brandishing a piece of well-worn, yellowed paper. They’d figured out that Jared performed a spell in which a soul was given to an inanimate object. Since then Jensen has been researching reversal spells and gathering as much scented candles as humanly possible.  
  
“So I spoke to one of my neighbours,” Jensen says. “And I think I’ve figured out why the spell went through even though you didn’t chant it out.”  
  
A memory flashes though Jared’s mind.  
  
“Uh, yeah, I kinda did,” he says stupidly. Jensen gives him a questioning look. “I wanted to see if the spells were legit so I chanted one out.”  
  
“You’re an idiot.”  
  
“Yeah, I know,” Jared grins. “You love it.”  
  
“Anyway, the spell is only supposed to work in the strong presence of a Wicca and well, your – my – neighbour claims that she is one, and she remembers you perfectly. Apparently she’s been trimming your hair via spell for years.”  
  
Jared shudders involuntarily and Jensen laughs at him.  
  
“What’s on the piece of paper?” Jared asks when Jensen doesn’t say anything.  
  
“It’s a reversal spell that I found. If we do it right, it should work and you should get your body back,” Jensen pauses and clears his throat.  
  
“And if we don’t do it right?” Jared prompts. He can tell from the uneasy look on Jensen’s face that this won’t be without its risks.  
  
“You’d end up being a bowl. Permanently.”  
  
“Oh,” Jared says contemplatively. “Well, that’s fine.”  
  
“Fine?” Jensen echoes. “How is living the rest of eternity as a fucking bowl  _fine_?”  
  
Wait. Eternity?! Jensen never mentioned anything about  _eternity_.  
  
“How soon can you do the spell?” Jared asks.  
  
~  
  
Jensen lays out all the candles into a circle. He places Jared in the center along with an old shirt of Jared, and what they’re assuming is a strand of Jared’s hair. There’s also a lamb bone and some rabbits teeth. Jared doesn’t ask where he got it from and Jensen doesn’t offer up the information.  
  
“How are you feeling?” Jensen says as he lights the candles. “Nervous?”  
  
“Not really.” He’s not. There’s no point in getting his hopes up and there’s no point in being nervous. This’ll either work or it won’t.  
  
"How long do we have to wait until you can say the spell?" The scent from the candles is making him feel off. Nauseated almost. Apparently bowls are sensitive souls. He says this to Jensen.  
  
"It's eight fifteen," Jensen says. "We can't do the spell until midnight." He looks like he wants to say more, probably some sarcastic comment on the way Jared rhymed soul with bowl, but he bites it back.  
  
"Wanna play I-Spy to pass the time?"  
  
"Not unless you actually  _want_  me to die of boredom."  
  
"So what will we talk about then?"  
  
"Well, you seemed to remember some stuff about when you weren't a bowl," Jensen says with a shrug. "Tell me about you."  
  
"Most of what I remember is boring," Jared says. "You don't wanna hear that."  
  
"Oh, I don't know, you were the mastermind that came up with  _Unlucky Charms_ , cast a spell on yourself and turned yourself into a bowl. Sounds pretty interesting to me.”  
  
So they talk about anything and everything; mostly Jared’s ineptitude at life. Jensen seems to find his canned tuna ad campaign hilarious.  
  
“I’m not sure why a rubber fish that says ‘tuna’ when you squeeze it would entice anyone into buying tuna,” he says. “If anything it’d scare me off fish for life.”  
  
“It seemed like a good idea at the time!” Jared protests, unsure about the number of times he’s uttered that same line within the last few hours. Probably a billion times.  
  
“Sure it did, buddy,” Jensen grins. He checks his watch and his face sobers considerably. “It’s 23:58. Almost time.”  
  
“If this fails, I’m really going to need you make my cupboard a little comfier,” Jared jokes. It falls flat, and the atmosphere in the room is full of tension. Before Jensen can respond, the kitchen door bursts open and Chad storms in. He looks pissed and all Jared can wonder is what the time is, because as much as he loves Chad, he really needs this spell to be done. They need to at least  _try_ to reverse this spell.  
  
“What were you doing sniffing around Jared’s office?” Chad asks. He looks around the room suspiciously and frowns. “And you were you talking to? Why is there a bowl in a ring of candles on you---“Chad’s words are cut off abruptly when Jensen’s fist connects with his face. He crumples into a heap.  
  
“We only have a minute left,” Jensen explains, wincing as he cradles his fist with his other hand. “I had to do something.” Jared just blinks. He’s too nervous and wrought with anxiety to say anything. The anticipation of maybe becoming a human who’s able to think,  _touch_ , move and see – really  _see_  – is proving to be too much to handle. He hopes to God that he doesn’t crack before the spell is over. He blinks again and Jensen’s chanting, reading words off a page in a slow, stilted way as he enunciates each word carefully. Jared can’t help feeling annoyed that Jensen wasted time talking to him instead of learning how to say the damn spell.  
  
He soon forgets about that when a blinding, white light appears in front of his eyes. It gets brighter and brighter until Jared can barely see anymore. It feels like his head’s about to split into two, but he’s cognizant enough to know that he doesn’t have a head; he’s a bowl.  
  
The light disappears as quickly as it appeared and Jared’s world goes black.  
  
~  
  
When Jared wakes up, he’s lying on something soft. His eyes fly open. He's a bowl; no surface feels  _soft_  to him. A flash of images play suddenly in his mind and he remembers the spell. The blinding white light; his one opportunity at being a human again. Jared looks down quickly, his eyes widening as he spots his arms. And then his fingers. Joy spreads within his body. His  _body._ He flexes his fingers and wiggles his toes ( _toes!_ ). They did it. He's no longer a bowl with a soul. He's a human again. With that confirmed, he gets up quickly, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he takes in the sight of the room he's in. It's the master of his apartment - his old room, though it looks a little different. Jensen clearly hasn't bothered to personalize the room in any way, not that Jared's surprised. Speaking of Jensen, he turns his attention to the muffled voices that he can hear through the door. He pads over towards it and presses his ear -  _his ear!_  - against it.  
  
"So what you're telling me is that Jared ate some jinxed cereal, accidentally cast a spell and turned himself into a fucking bowl." That's Chad’s voice, Jared realises excitedly.  
  
"That's what I'm telling you." Jared's heard Jensen speak enough times to be able to tell that he's not in the best of moods. Chad generally has that effect on people.  
  
"You're crazy," Chad says. "What's wrong with you? Are you on meth? I heard that they busted a gang in Wal-Mart just last week. And lemme tell you, man. The shit they were cooking up was not good."  
  
"You're the one who asked for an explanation," Jensen replies. "Take it or leave it."  
  
“How am I supposed to just accept some sort of crazy story about a  _talking_  bowl?” Chad says. “There’s no sign of the bowl. There’s no sign of Jared. For all I know you could be a crazy murder---and oh my god, is that spoon... _dancing_?”  
  
“...I think it is,” Jensen says, and there’s sarcasm in his voice this time, just pure confusion. And well, Jared kind of has to see this dancing spoon for himself. He flings the door open and rushes into the kitchen. Sure enough, there’s a silver table spoon gyrating from side to side in the center of the table. Jared blinks at it.  
  
He tries not to feel bitter about the fact that this spoon’s been ignoring him for months. Jensen looks up when Jared enters and says,  
  
“Your neighbour said that sometimes it was possible to transfer magic to another object.” Ah. That explains the spoon.  
  
“How does it feel to be human again?” Jensen asks, showing no signs of nervousness at meeting Jared in his human form again. Not that Jared’s surprised; everything between them kind of feels the same. Just, he can touch and smell and see things from different angles now. It’s kind of awesome.  
  
“Weird,” Jared laughs. “I feel like I’ve been on an extended vacation, instead of being confined to bowldom for a year.”  
  
“Seriously?” Chad says, and Jared blinks and turns to face his best friend. Truth be told, once he’d seen Jensen, Jared had kind of forgotten that the other man was there. Oops. “I don’t see you for a year. And when I do, you’re carrying on with this fucked up story about you being turned into a bowl? Am I being PUNK’d?”  
  
“You kind of have to see it to believe it,” Jensen says. “I was the only one who could hear him.”  
  
“Uh-huh,” Chad says. “Well. I have no idea what you two are smoking, or where Jared’s really been. So I’m just going to get really, really drunk and forget that this conversation ever happened. I will even forget the fact that I’m the only person who noticed that Jared was missing. Later, douchebags.”  
  
Chad practically flies out of the door. Jared can’t blame him really. It is a little weird. As is the dancing spoon and being left on his own with Jensen.  
  
"So this is weird," Jensen says awkwardly. Jared nods his head in vigorous agreement. "I'm not used to you having the height advantage."  
  
"Uh-huh," Jared says.  
  
"Oh god." A new voice enters the foray. Jared and Jensen turn to look at each other. After sharing looks of bemusement, they turn to look at the dancing spoon.  
  
"No..." Jared says.  
  
"It can't be..." says Jensen.  
  
"It is!" the spoon cries. "Hi, I'm Mike. And all of this dancing is making me dizzy, but seriously, you both clearly like each other. And all the other spoons are kind of sick of you dancing - ha! - around each other. Just, do something about all this tension before I wake up okay?"  
  
With that, the spoon topples over and lands on its side. Seconds later quiet snores fill the room.  
  
"Did you just get relationship advice from a dancing spoon?" Jared asks.  
  
"Yeah, kind of like the way I got told to eat breakfast by a talking bowl," Jensen replies as he checks his watch briefly. "Speaking of breakfast, wanna go out and get some? I know a place." Jared can tell by the way that Jensen rocks back on his heels that this is anything but a casual invitation.  
  
"Is this a breakfast  _date_  or just breakfast?" Jared's not used to the whole heart beating in his chest thing; all of these feelings had seemed less pronounced when he was a bowl.  
  
"We'll see," is all that Jensen says.  
  
Moments later, as they're leaving the apartments and Jared's about to step outside for the first time in a long time, he stops in the hallway.  
  
"I'm never eating cereal again," he says.  
  
"Ever." He waits for Jensen to roll his eyes and maybe make a snarky comment, but he merely laughs and shoos Jared out of the door. Jared grins to himself as the air hits his face.  
  
Maybe those Unlucky Charms weren't so unlucky after all.  
  
**Fin.**


End file.
